JA Michaels: The Muggle Professor
by NoOneHearsYouScreaming
Summary: "Lately I have been having odd dreams, except they weren't exactly dreams. They were visions involving a battle. A familiar boy was leading his people. At the first glimpse of his scar I realized why he looked so familiar; he was Harry Potter." Jane Andrea was no ordinary muggle. She taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Post DH- Does not follow Epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

Summary/Intro:

Lately I have been having odd dreams, except they weren't exactly dreams. They were visions involving a battle. A familiar boy was leading his people. At the first glimpse of his scar I realized why he looked so familiar; he was Harry Potter.

* * *

April 30th, 1998

"ARGH!" I woke up yelling, sweat dribbling down my forehead. I looked over at my clock, 2:00 a.m flashing in bright red. Groaning I got up and decided to make myself some tisane to calm my nerves.

I just woke up from the strangest dream. Lately I have been having odd dreams, except they weren't exactly dreams. They were premonitions involving a battle. A familiar boy was leading his people. At the first glimpse of his scar I realized why he looked so familiar; he was Harry Potter.

Harry Potter was a wizard. The Boy Who Lived to be more precise.

Harry Potter was also my childhood best friend.

*flashback*

"What are you doing here freak? This is for the big kids. Not for losers like you!" Some big kid yelled at a scrawny boy with round specks. The boy looked like he wanted to run away but couldn't as he was surrounded by other children.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" could be heard from the small crowd of children in the recreation space in the back of the elementary school.

 _Won't anyone do anything? It's the first day of school, no one should be treated like this_ , I thought to myself in anger. Looking around I noticed the teacher in charge pretending to not see what was going on. Huffing in anger I decided that I was going to help the poor boy. I marched over to the crowd with one goal in mind.

"OI! FREE CHOCOLATE IN THE FOOD ROOM!" I yelled at the top of my lungs and watched in astonishment as kids rushed past me and inside the school building. Only the small boy was left outside, tears running down his face.

Walking up to him I asked, "Are you okay?" Good going Jane. He's crying and you ask a stupid question. He looked up at me, taking off his cheap looking glasses and wiping away the tears, and nodded.

"Thank you," he said in a small voice. "You shouldn't have done that. Now everyone will hate you!"

I laughed.

"That's okay!" I held out my hand, "My name is Jane Andrea Michaels, age 8." Taking my hand, he said in the same manner, "My name is Harry James Potter, age 7!"

Grinning I said, "You're my new best mate!"

*Flashback over*

Unfortunately, I moved to Canada with my parents a year later. During the first year I sent monthly letters to Harry but never got any replies. Eventually I stopped and as a result I haven't had any contact with Harry Potter since then; that is, until my dreams started.

I was 12 at the time and didn't know what was happening, thinking I was just dreaming of my best friend, yes he was still considered that, as I missed him. But these dreams were too realistic to be just dreams. My parents eventually explained what was going on once I came to them panicking because I saw a man with two faces attacking Harry. Magic is real. As it turns out, my great-great-grandmother was a Squib, a non magical person in a magical family, and the females in her family were known to be seers at some point in time. Lucky me, I gained the ability.

Thanks to these visions I knew all about Harry Potter. Once in a while I get glimpses of his life. Tonight's vision was different. I haven't had a vision this detailed in a long time. The end of the war is near. I felt Harry's pain, almost as if I was him, fighting in the battle that'll determine the future.

Groaning I decided to wait until morning to decide what to do about my vision.

* * *

A week later my plan was finally in action, although I implemented it without knowing exactly what it is I was doing. All I really knew was that in order to enter the Wizarding side of London I had to find a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. I needed some answers.

"Oh great, good going Jane," I muttered to myself in frustration once I realized how lost I was. "I might as well make this a learning experience." I sighed to myself and started walking around. London was beautiful and completely different to Canada. I had always wanted to come back here. Unfortunately, the circumstances involving me being back in London was not ideal.

As I was walking around I saw an odd shimmer around an empty area. Having magical blood in my body sometimes permitted me to see or sense magic surrounding areas; this was definitely a magical place. Gazing at the same place intensely I started to see an old building appear, followed by windows and a door, with a shabby looking sign saying Leaky Cauldron.

 _This is it_ , I thought. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the worn door open. Walking inside I noticed that the pub, which is a link between muggle and wizarding London, was as shabby looking as the outside. _Don't wizards know what cleaning is?_ I thought to myself as I sneezed from all the dust in the pub.

The pub was packed with people celebrating.

Cautiously I walked to the barkeeper. "I take it the war is over?" I asked, hoping to find out what happened to "The Chosen One." The man looked at me with a grin and exclaimed, "Well 'Lil Lady, yes it is! Harry Potter finally rid us of You-Know-Who!"

Is he okay? Is he alive? Just because he defeated Voldemort doesn't mean he didn't perish in the process. I voiced my concerns to the man at the counter. "No worries. Mr. Potter is well alive. Are you a friend of his?" he wondered in a kind voice.

I nodded. "Yes. Uh, sorry but do you know a place where I could stay, and perhaps an owl I could use to send a letter?"

The barkeeper, Tom, informed me that there were rooms available in the pub and that he will happily provide me with one free of charge. "Any friends of Mr. Potter's are welcomed here!" he exclaimed happily, giving me a key with the number eight on it. "As for the owl you can borrow one from Diagon Alley. Remember: from the trash can tap Three Up, Two Across with your wand."

Oh.

I had forgotten that minor detail.

I had no wand as I'm not a witch.

"Sorry sir, but I don't have a wand. I'm not a witch," I explained, suddenly feeling stupid. Mr. Tom's eyes widened in shock.

"A muggle?" he questioned quietly. I had no idea what a muggle was but I nodded anyways figuring that's what they called us people with no powers.

He grabbed my arm in a tight grip and brought me in a room at the back of the pub. By that time, I was freaking out not knowing what was happening. Mr. Tom told me to sit on an old wooden chair while he threw in some kind of powder into the fireplace. Green flames erupted in the fireplace. He put his face into the green fire and began speaking.

"Minister, we have a problem."

I am screwed.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter of J.A. Michaels The First Muggle Professor. I first wrote this over two years ago. I decided to read through it again as I think it has the potential of becoming a good story. I have a few chapters written but I will try uploading weekly. With finals coming up it will be hard, but I'll try my best!

~Sabrina


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

May 6th, 1998

After spending half an hour explaining myself to the Minister for Magic and providing that I posed no threat I was finally able to take a deep breath and sit down. Both the Minister and Tom appeared to be in shock.

Looking at the Minister hesitantly I asked, "So, will you be able to help me?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt was a tall man of approximately 6ft with brown eyes and dark skin. At first he looked intimidating due to his position as Minister but after talking to him for a while I could see that he was in fact kind and understanding. He had only recently been appointed as Minister, and from my visions I knew he was part of the Order. Therefore, I hoped he could help me.

"Of course," he replied smiling. "I don't want to get your hopes up but I believe Harry is going back to finish his education and that Hogwarts is in need of a Muggle Studies Professor," he began. " Obviously, no non-magical person has ever been a professor at Hogwarts but I think that since you are a Seer and have lived without magic all your life I can conclude that you would be the best person for that teaching position."

"I-Yes of course! I'd love to!" I exclaimed shocked. This was a great idea. "Though I've never taught before. Perhaps you should get someone more qualified."

The Minister shook his head. "Nonsense. You will do fine. After all, how hard is it to teach people about something you know everything about?" he said. "I will have to speak to Professor McGonagall about this, she is the Headmistress, and I'm sure she will agree with me."

This was more than I was hoping for. I was hoping to reconnect with my childhood friend and make sure he didn't get himself killed but instead I end up with a job offer for the school he attends. This was incredible.

"Wow. Thank you, Minister!"

Minister Shacklebolt got up from his chair and shook my hand. "It's my pleasure. After all that boy went through, getting him reunited with his childhood friend is the least I can do."

After confirming that he will have an owl sent to me by Professor McGonagall the Minister went back into the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of green light.

I want to learn to do that.

Tom, who had remained quiet throughout the conversation suddenly stood up. "Well, Ms. Michaels, I apologize about earlier, though surely you understand why I acted that way," he said, a guilty look on his face. At my nod he continued, " I believe you will still need a room for the duration of your trip. As for getting into the alley, all you have to do is inform me and I will open the passageway for you. You may convert your muggle money at Gringotts to pay for your expenses."

"Thank you Mr. Tom," I replied gratefully.

* * *

Professor McGonagall sent me a letter three days later officially offering a teaching position at Hogwarts. She explained that, as a result of the war, students of all levels were to take Muggle Studies, in a similar fashion that all students were to take a new course called Wizarding Studies. This will help the students understand both cultures and prevent further discrimination.

Once I accepted my job offer I headed London and went shopping for supplies that I believed I would need. How does one teach the subject of muggles and keep things interesting? By the end of my first round of shopping I needed Tom to shrink my things into my suitcase.

Next stop, Diagon Alley.

Following the pattern Tom gave me, an archway opened up. From my visions I expected Diagon Alley to be filled with people, a multitude of shops, and noise. That is a far cry from reality.

It was sombre. With every step I took I could feel broken glass crunching underneath. There were very few people around, and it just reminded me of scenes in zombie movies.

Once I was done gawking at the broken, closed off buildings, I headed in the direction of the big white building Mr. Tom told me was Gringotts, the wizard bank. Unlike the rest of the alley it was magnificent. The inside was even more beautiful. It was bigger on the inside.

One thing I was not prepared for was the creature working as the bank tellers. Goblins were everywhere, sitting at overly high desks, probably making up for their short stature, if everything I read about goblins are true.

"Woah. Definitely better than regular banks," I whispered to myself walking towards the nearest creature available.

"Uh, excuse me sir?" I started, unsure of how to address such person. "I wish to exchange muggle money into your currency." I smiled to myself, proud of my use of magical vocabulary. The goblin looked at me with wide eyes, and didn't say anything. Internally I started to panic, thinking I said something wrong.

"Sir? Are you alright?" I asked, uncomfortable. My question seemed to get the goblin out of his stupor and he gave what I think is a smile.

"Yes, yes. I apologise. Would you like to acquire a vault or just exchange the money?"

"A vault would be nice thank you," I said smiling. A vault would be better; this way my Hogwarts money would be put in there and I can live comfortably in both worlds.

"A drop of blood for full identification will be needed," he explained, handing me a small dagger. Pricking my finger with the dagger I pressed by finger against a blank piece of parchment. "Once the blood soaks in your records will appear on the parchment."

Soon after words started to appear. The goblin analysed the parchment before rushing behind his desk, heading towards a door on the far left, leaving me stunned. A minute later he reappeared with another goblin, this one older than the one who previously attended me.

"Ms. Michaels, if will you please follow me," the older goblin instructed.

Why do people always want to talk in private? It is getting very annoying. Yes, I'm a muggle. There are billions of them on this bloody planet. Nonetheless I kept my complaints to myself and followed the goblin.

We arrived in a spacious room from which a desk, too big for a goblin in my opinion, and many comfortable looking chairs were situated in the center.

"Thank you," I said, accepting the seat. "Now, would you please explain who you are and why this goblin went to get you upon seeing my records?" The old goblin and the one who served me shared a look.

"Well Ms. Michaels, first of all I want to say it is a pleasure to meet you. Us goblins have yet to meet a Seer who treat us with outmost respect. My name is Ragnok, Head Goblin at Gringotts. We have found some interesting things whilst consulting your identification sheet," the Head Goblin, Ragnok, explained.

"Interesting? How?" I asked, curious. His only response was to reach over the desk and hand me the parchment.

 ** _Name: Jane Andrea Michaels-Potter_**

 ** _Age: 19_**

 ** _Birthday: May 12th, 1980_**

 ** _Parents: Katherine Eilleen Michaels (Nee Malloy), John Patrick Michaels (1960-1995)._**

 ** _Siblings: Samuel John Michaels (1983-1995), Harry James Potter-Michaels_**

 ** _Status: Human, Muggle, Seer._**

"How can this be?" I exclaimed, shocked at what I had just read. "There must be a mistake! I'm not related to Harry Potter!"

The goblins appeared to be as lost as I was. "Ms. Michaels, we are doing everything to figure this out. The only way you two could be related was if you had the same parents or if a blood adoption or ritual was created." Ragnok explained, trying to calm me down.

I froze.

"Ms. Michaels?" the goblin who served me earlier asked, a look of worry on his face.

"What does a blood ritual entail exactly?" I questioned, fearing the answer.

"A blood ritual is when two or more people mix their blood together in a bonding ritual that is unbreakable, unless someone in the bond loses their life. It essentially is similar to the twin bonding, meaning that there are certain links that may be present, though no one is sure what they involve," Ragnok explained slowly.

I did the only thing I could possibly do as a result of hearing this.

I fainted.

* * *

Author's Note: There you go! I hope you guys liked this chapter! More will be explained in the next chapter. I am still trying to get into writing again and this story is my test subject. I might be rusty and therefore I apologise. ~Sabrina


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